The American and The Brit: Unsolicited Advice

by K A Young

  Liz was out and around the car in seconds. “Oh no! That poor birdie.” I couldn’t take much more. This was a total riot. “You should be ashamed of yourself! That poor bir—” She stopped abruptly and leaned in to get a closer look. “It’s a magpie,” she announced oddly before she stood at attention and commenced saluting while pretending to spit. “Good morning, Mr. Magpie.”

  Through fits of laughter I was able to spit out. “What are you doing?” She was chatting up a dead bird.

  “Oh Phoebe, you must always salute a magpie and say good morning. It’s bad luck if you don’t.”

  “Of course it is, but Liz, it’s close to dark now.” I giggled some more.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. And…” Liz paused to scratch her head, “I’m unsure if it applies if the bird is a goner.”

  Dear God, she was a superstitious nut. We were getting looks again, not that I was surprised with Liz putting on some freakish superstitious show and me still laughing my ass off. By the time I got it together I was late for my appointment and decided Liz was right. I had no business wasting money on my nails at present. I’d have plenty of time to waste my money later.

  “Come on, soldier, let go home and heat up our leftovers. We’ll ask the super to remove the evidence from Wilf.” Liz saluted me and we left.

  Lizbeth

  Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeene!

  The next few days I avoided everyone, although Phoebe took great pleasure in teasing me over both the disaster that was the meal with the boss and the magpie massacre.We hadn't seen Jake around the office and I was grateful for that. Phoebe had gone on and on about my behavior. Sadly, when I recalled the event I drew a major blank because of all the alcohol. Surely I wouldn't have flirted with the big bossman's younger brother, would I? God, it was frustrating. I'd vowed last night never to drink again while at a work function. Phoebe didn't believe me, of course. I'd cried wolf too many times touting that I'd never drink again. On the plus side, avoiding everyone meant Phoebe and I had plowed through hundreds of emails and selected dozens to reply to in next week's columns. With me still hiding out in our office Phoebe had latched onto Doreen, a fifty-something year old secretary from down the hall who knew everything about everybody and just loved to gossip. She told Phoebe all of the juicy details of Steve the accountant and Molly the trolley girl. Apparently, according to motor mouth Doreen, they sneak off into the supply room and have it off every chance they get. We’d not seen Sandra anywhere since the night at the club and from what Phoebe heard from Doreen, after the clique chicks read our Facebook post they’d ostracized her immediately and she couldn’t handle it. She hadn’t returned to work, taking a leave of absence. I didn’t feel bad for her in the slightest. And now that we were on good terms with the clique chicks I counted it a victory. Stepping out with your girlfriend’s man was a bozo no-no.

  Normally I would be in the middle enjoying the gossip, but this afternoon’s interviews had my knickers in a twist. I really wished Chrissi were staying, but she'd made it clear that she had to move on, so we had no choice but to interview eight candidates and hire one to be our new secretary.

  Phoebe came into the office. “Hey Liz. I just went past the reception area and you’re not going to believe how many are here to interview for Chrissi’s job.” She didn’t wait for me to guess. “There are about a half dozen. This is going to take forever.”

  “Seriously, Phoebe. Can’t you act the professional for once?” This was important; we had to find the perfect replacement.

  After a giant sigh Phoebe went across to her office and pushed her chair over to sit next to me at my desk. Without another word I buzzed Chrissi. “Could you send in the first applicant, please?”

  “Sure thing.” There was an odd tone in her voice. She must be feeling poorly today. I made a mental note to ask her later. I pulled up the applications and read over Tara Tolbert’s information.

  Five minutes later a middle-aged woman entered and I got up to greet her. “Good afternoon, Miss Tolbert. I’m Lizbeth Bates and this is Phoebe Hawkins.” Phoebe stood and smiled, and we both shook her hand.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, ladies.”

  “Please have a seat.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The interviews were tedious, and I was relieved when I realized that we had only one applicant left. I’d asked each one the same series of questions that I’d Googled last night and still hadn’t a clue who I wanted to hire. None of them had grabbed me thus far. Halfway through the last interview Phoebe had obviously gotten bored and didn’t even hide her yawning. She was going to bolt, I just knew it.

  Phoebe stood. “Liz, I’m no good at all this. I have no idea who we should hire and I’ve got to stretch my legs a bit.”

  “Fine, Phoebs, I’ll do the last one myself. Don’t trouble yourself further to actually do your job,” I said with an evident sarcastic undertone.

  “Great!” Phoebe grinned, totally ignoring my jab before she disappeared out the door.

  Ugh, why did I always have to be the responsible one? I wanted to get out of this too.

  The door burst back open. "They're in the supply room now." Phoebe was laughing. "Come on, let's go look."

  "I'm not going. They're not stupid enough to do that here. Doreen is pulling your leg. Besides, I still have to do this last interview. One of us has to work.”

  "Right.” She ignored my innuendo again. “Well, I'm going to look for myself. Be back in a bit."

  She was gone before I could say another word. I picked up the phone and dialed Chrissi. "Hi Chrissi, could I borrow you for a moment please?"

  "Sure, be right in." Chrissi entered before I had put the receiver back on the phone. "What's up?"

  I took a minute to stand and stretch my legs. “Is the last applicant here"?

  "Yes, she’s out in the reception area." Chrissi paused before opening the door. "I know you and Phoebs have a tendency to laugh, so I'm warning you beforehand."

  "Oh no, what's wrong with her?" Maybe it was a good thing that Phoebe had bailed.

  "She's, um, very nice. Actually, she reminds me of someone…someone famous." If this girl made Chrissi laugh I didn't stand a chance.

  "Okay, send her in." Chrissi laughed again before leaving the office.

  I took a deep breath and composed myself before a woman with the biggest blonde hair, I mean way bigger than mine and Phoebe's put together on a really bad day who was endowed with the biggest tits I had ever seen, strolled into our office. She was almost identical to Dolly Parton. This chick must have spent loads in plastic surgery to achieve this sort of result. She should be going to Nashville instead of Chrissi. "Miss Bates, this is Polly Barton." I clamped my mouth shut and took in the sight before me. She was dressed in a suede tight-fitting dress that flared out from the waist with the hem a few inches above her matching suede cowboy boots. I wondered if her mass of hair was concealing a cowboy hat, too. "Miss Barton," Chrissi repeated as I apparently had forgotten how to speak.

  "Yes, Miss Barton, please take a seat." Chrissi stayed a moment; her eyes had burned a hole through me, as she waited for me to make eye contact with her. I couldn’t for fear that it would cause my face to crack. Was this a joke? God, please let this be a joke.

  "Howdy!" Polly extended her hand to me and leaned over the desk to shake my hand. Her breast skimmed my pot of pens and they scattered everywhere. "Well, ain't I as useless as a screen door on a submarine?" I leaned around Polly's humongous rack to see Chrissi clamping her hand over her mouth, fighting with the door handle to get out. "That's got it." She flopped down in the chair and smiled at me. "I'm shakin' like a hound dog trying to shit a peach pit I'm so nervous." I managed a smile and a nod. Chrissi had made it out.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Barton." I couldn't bring myself to say Polly. "How are you?"

  "Finer than a frog hair split three ways but I'm as hot as a billy goat's ass in a pepper patch." She let out a long sigh. "My man ain't got the good sense God gave a
goose. He was meant to bring me here but he forgot again. We ain't got a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of and he forgets about this important interview."

  "Oh. That’s, um, too bad.”

  "I'm madder than a wet hen." She examined her giant pink claw-like nails.

  "Let's get started then, shall we?" I was going to get through this and then chew Chrissi out the second it was over.

  "Yes, ma'am." She sat upright, pushing her shoulders back. I thought my tits were big, but they looked like bee stings compared to hers. As I was about to start questioning Polly I heard laughter coming from outside of the office.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Parton…I mean, Barton, would you excuse me for a second?"

  She smiled at my slip up. “Ah, you’re so sweet.”

  “Will you excuse me for a second?” I bolted for the door, not waiting for a response. As I opened the door both Phoebe and Chrissi fell into the office. I grabbed the two of them and hauled them back outside. Phoebe was in tears, her mascara ruined. "I expected as much from you, Phoebs, but Chrissi? I'm disappointed." I was mad so I fought the laughter. I had no intention of encouraging them. Phoebe shrugged and the three of us went to the break room for a drink.

  "Does she really look like Dolly Parton, Liz?" I refused to turn around. "Come on, Liz, she wants to work nine to five." Phoebe goaded. At that I lost it. The water that I'd been holding in my mouth sprayed everywhere; some accidentally slipped down my throat, half choking me. As I coughed and sputtered Phoebe came over and pounded my back.

  “I’m sorry, Liz, she’s an improv actor.” Chrissi laughed. “It was my parting gift to you.”

  I shook my head and continued to laugh.

  “Good afternoon, ladies." We all spun around to see Mr. John Thomas standing behind us. "Everything okay?"

  "Yes, John," we all said in unison, not sounding guilty at all. Well, Phoebe and Chrissi said John. I still stuck in my pattern, replying with Mr. John Thomas as usual. Phoebe had smirked at me.

  "Very well then." He continued past us but kept turning around, obviously aware that there was indeed something up. We all smiled, a picture of innocence until he rounded the corner out of sight.

  Phoebe took off for some odd reason. “I need to see a man about a dog.” There was just no figuring out Phoebe.

  Great! I eyed Chrissi who was standing there grinning, watching Phoebe escape.

  "Get rid of her."

  I didn’t wait for a response; I just followed Phoebe. "I need to see this dog and man and what she said." I had no idea where I was going but it was exhilarating after being confined for hours. I could hear Chrissi, laughing in the distance. I turned around while in full sprint and laughed maniacally like a crazy person escaping from an asylum. Bang! "Oh shit," I screamed as I hit something hard. I went flying.

  "Oh Liz, I'm so sorry." Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. That voice was familiar. Strong hands held my shoulders and I refused to open my eyes. "Are you hurt?" Only my pride…again.

  "I'm fine, Bas—er, Jake, I shouldn't have been running." He smiled as he helped me to my feet. I tried to compose myself.

  "My brother isn't that scary, you know." While he steadied me I was finally forced to make eye contact with him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Brother?" I questioned, still not understanding what he meant.

  "Yes, he's here. He came back early." He released my shoulders. “You girls have made quite an impression.”

  "What?" God only knew what I looked like now. My eyes were darting in every direction looking for both Gary Anderson and Phoebe. "He's here? Why?" Oh shit, where was Phoebe?

  "Have you not seen the ratings? You two haven't been here but a few weeks yet and our ratings have gone through the roof. He couldn't wait to meet the two girls who have put his media company on the map."

  Oh… well. "Please excuse me, Jake, I need to freshen up." I tried not to run. I power walked to the nearest restroom murmuring obscenities under my breath. Once inside I went to the wash basin and wet a paper towel. I needed to cool down. The cool water was glorious on my face. I closed my eyes and relished the silence for a few minutes. Suddenly a voice started singing "Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeen." Followed by laughter. "Phoebe Hawkins, get your arse out here now!" The cubicle door opened and out came Phoebe laughing and holding her stomach.

  "I'm so sorry, Liz. I honestly thought I was going to wet myself. I had to run." She shook her head. “Besides, this was all Chrissi’s doing so she should send Dolly away.”

  "Yes, that’s done,” I replied, not caring about the practical joke any longer. After I shook my head I informed Phoebe, “You're going to shit yourself after I tell you what I've just heard." Her face dropped. "Gary Anderson is in the building—he came back early to meet us!"

  Phoebe

  Time to Face the Music

  As I stood like a deer in headlights my laughter died in my throat as I faced Liz. It was sort of like we were living a Girls Gone Wild life of our very own, and now that we were busted they were showing our shenanigans on the big screen for all to see. “Okay.” I took a deep breath. What had Liz and I been thinking, behaving like this? Straightening my skirt, I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go face the bossman.”

  “Yes, I know we have to. But I just made a complete fool of myself, Phoebs.” Liz went over to the sink and began splashing water onto her face. “I nearly knocked myself out and I’m completely sober. So I have no excuse except for the fact that I am a complete whack job that has no business being employed here and I did all this in front of Jake.” She was having a meltdown.

  “Lizbeth Bates, I’ve had just about enough of this. Sure, we aren’t your typical employees, but that’s not what we’ve been hired to be. They love the Internet ratings we are pulling in for the company and, let’s face it, the reason we are receiving such high praise is because we are a little nutty. So it’s a good thing. Not everyone can pull this type of job off but it comes easy to us. Sure, we may be a little rough around the edges, but until someone is complaining we shouldn’t make a big deal of it. Aren’t you tired of feeling like we aren’t good enough for this place?” Liz stood there, stunned, water still dripping from her face like she hardly recognized me. To be honest, as I glimpsed myself in the mirror, I didn’t really recognize me either. Just then someone tried to come through the door of the ladies room.

  “Oh God,” Liz squeaked and I rushed to close the door back.

  “I beg your apologies, this restroom is being occupied at the moment. Come back in five. Thank you.”

  After I listened for a moment at the door I confirmed my request had been heeded. “You see, I think that everyone here is comfortable with the way we are and let’s face it, this isn’t a typical company anyway. Everyone here has their little quirks—that’s why we find them so amusing. Besides, to be absolutely honest, Liz, it isn’t like their screening process is thorough. I mean, really, we were hired pretty much sight unseen and on the recommendation of the owner’s brother—who isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Hey, don’t go bashing on Jake the Bastard.” Liz sincerely looked offended and that worried me.

  “Okay, he’s a nice enough guy and we’re indebted to him for sure, but this type of hiring process isn’t the norm—you have to admit that. It’s why we fit so well in this unconventional environment, right? We found our fit, so why are we killing ourselves to become something we aren’t? Let’s make a pact right here and now to start valuing ourselves and what we bring to this company. No more insecurities, no more feeling ashamed by our unfiltered brains, and certainly no more hiding!” Liz made a face. “Yes, I realize it’s a tall order that goes against everything you and I have within us, but we have to try, don’t we? No one will think highly of us if we continue down this path of self-degradation.”

  Liz was contemplating my words while I stood there with my back against the door to prevent any intrus
ion on our conversation. If I looked closely enough I could almost see the wheels turning inside Liz’s head. She walked over to grab a couple of towels and dried her face off. When she had finished her shoulders were straighter, she stood up taller, and her face held the expression of resolution. “You know, Phoebe Hawkins, you’re not just a pretty face.”

  “Why, thank you, Liz.” I did a curtsy.

  “I’m serious. You said exactly what I needed to hear. It was as if we were dreading the return of the man that could throw us out on our ears, and now that the time has come I freaked a little. I’m good now and you’re right, they expect us to be a tad eccentric and even though we stretch the tad, that’s okay. If we don’t start valuing ourselves, how can we ever expect to have others value us? We have something here that no one else has done or has attempted to do.” She glanced into the mirror and fluffed her hair. “Phoebs, let’s go let the bossman meet his two most valuable employees.”

  After a quick mirror conformation that my lipstick was okay I was ready and gave her a nod. She and I walked out of the ladies’ room two confident women with our shoulders back and our heads held high. I still didn’t dare a glance toward Liz. Even though we were changed women we were both still…well, us.

  Liz and I rounded the corner and I could tell that she was expecting to run into Jake; when we didn’t she seemed to relax a bit more. The office was all abuzz now, everyone busy about their business and hoping to make a good impression, yet no one seemed all that uptight. As I walked through the maze of cubicles there were still smiles to be seen on the faces of the Anderson employees. This had to be a good sign.

  “Lizbeth, Phoebe, could you two please come over here for a moment?” Liz flinched ever so slightly at Jake the Bastard’s summons, and I was really starting to suspect that she was becoming far too interested in him for my taste. Of all the people she would start to fall for she had to choose the brother of our boss. Not good. I was going to throw as many male distractions toward her as possible to end this fantasy crush of hers.